A Reason to Live edited
by Opaque Vision
Summary: An edited version of my story, I encourage you to read both, I think you'll find this one much better! And it will be TP later on!
1. Default Chapter

Hello! Well some were very nice and polite in response to the first draft of this story so thank you. I took the advice given and rewrote the ending. In all honesty I wrote the whole thing around 1 a.m. and in one sitting so I got tired and just ended it and then foolishly submitted it without reviewing it. I apologize. I plan on leaving up the original because I want people to read it and be horrified and then read this and be amazed. Not meaning to be over-confident or anything, but hold on because I am determined to set this fic right and I will be working hard on astounding all you readers out there. Hope you enjoy this more! Bye and thanks for the reviews!  
  
deadscream7990  
  
~~~~~  
  
A Reason to Live *edited*  
  
~~~~~  
  
He sat alone, a solitary creature, shunning all human contact. The brilliant light shed by the sun quickly fading as the sun dropped behind the mountains. With his head hung low, the man sat, content for the moment to watch the fading reds and oranges of the sunset play across the sky.  
  
A voice, carried over the wind, reached his ear. With a sigh, his head dropped lower. What more did she want from him? He had done as she wished. He had used her plan.   
  
He had gone to the past to warn the others, trained and fought beside them, become insanely more powerful, and then had returned to defeat the androids and Cell. Everything thing had been done just like she wanted. But she was not happy. Not satisfied. What more did she want from him?  
  
In changing the past he had changed himself. It had been a mistake to become acquainted with the warriors of the past. Meeting his father, seeing Gohan again, it was all so amazing to him. He had never wanted to leave that timeline, the place where the world was still alive. Yet he had returned, refusing to leave his world to be sacrificed to the androids. What a fool he was. To think he could be satisfied with this lonely life after having met so many friends in the other timeline.   
  
It just wasn't fair! Why did he always end up alone? He had thought that when the androids were defeated then the pain in life would magically be eradicated. Foolish hopes and dreams. The pain would never leave his life and the loneliness had only gotten worse. Anything is better than this, this knowledge of how it could have been, how it should have been for his world!   
  
He could never be content here. No, he felt so alone, so out of place. Nothing interested him here. If only...if only this miserable existence would end. His life served no purpose anymore so what was the point of continuing on?  
  
The voice, once distant, now close, reached his sensitive ears again. Question answered. No matter how irritated he felt with her a times, he knew that he could never leave his mother alone here. She didn't need him, but she wanted him, which was enough to keep him anchored in this world for the time being.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Bulma hesitantly approached her only son. He was never the same after returning from the other timeline. There was a sad aura around him constantly. Not even the defeat of the androids and Cell brought him happiness. She knew what he wanted, she knew that he would never feel a part of this world again, not after being a part of their world.   
  
He was a man split in two and it was killing him.   
  
Never speaking a word, Bulma lowered herself to the ground beside Trunks. Lightly rubbing her hands over her arms, she struggled to think of something to say to the young man sitting beside her.  
  
"Go home, mother, it's cold out here. You'll get sick," Trunks sat still watching in the direction of the sunset that had long been over.   
  
"I suppose you're right, Trunks dear." Bulma stood to leave, not wishing to try and push him into talking to her at a moment when he obviously wanted nothing more than to be left alone. "You do realize that you can't push me away forever, Trunks, right? I'm not leaving you alone to wither away. You mean too much to me."  
  
With that having been said, Bulma retreated into the darkness towards Capsule Corp. Her eyes glassy at the sight of her only son so deep in depression. She never should have let him go to the past. It was too much for his poor soul to handle. She should have gone, not her son. Why had she let him? Why had she willingly allowed him to do something that she deep down knew would bring him so much pain?   
  
Because she was weak. Because she had not wanted to feel that pain. Because she vainly hoped that he would not become attached, vainly hoped that he would transcend the pain.  
  
What a fool she was.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Seconds to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years.   
  
And still Trunks prayed for death to come, for fate to be merciful.   
  
~~~~~  
  
She lay on her bed, weak and unable to move. Trunks had been home a lot more recently. He knew the same as her, her life would end soon. He sat beside her bed in a chair, pulled close, holding her hand gently in his.   
  
A solitary tear escaped her eyes, a tear for the person she was leaving behind. Please, Kami, let him find a reason to live on when I'm gone. She knew he had stayed alive for her benefit and she feared that with her death, Trunks would feel free to do with his life as he see fit...end it.  
  
Her breathe came in short gasps as she prayed fervently for a miracle for her son. Don't let his life end this way, in pain, he deserves so much more. He deserves everything he left behind in the other timeline. If only he could return there...if only we hadn't destroyed the time machine...if only I had built him another...if only I had more time with him...if only I could tell him how much I love him one more time.  
  
So many 'if onlys'...so many...  
  
Azure met azure, unspoken words were exchanged, and one soul departed from its bodily confines.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Trunks was laying on his back, he could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, the cool of the grass beneath him. His quiet breathing the only audible sound for miles. Far away from people, far away from reality. This was how he loved to spend his days, simply content to lay back and relish in the wonders of peace and nature.   
  
As much as he may love peace though, he wondered daily if he would ever, rather could ever, find peace within his own soul. Was it possible, in a time of peace, for a warrior, who is no longer needed, to silence the urge, often the need, to fight?   
  
Perhaps that was where his problem resided. His inherent need to be in a constant state of battle. Was it possible that he was creating his own personal problems so that he may have an opponent with which to fight? Could that truly be?  
  
His mind toyed with the idea, bouncing it back and forth within the recesses of his mind. But how, he wondered, could he create from his imagination this incredible feeling of loneliness? The feeling that was amplified intensely by his mothers departure from this dimension.  
  
Trunks sighed, exhaustion beginning to grasp his whole being. He stood on unsteady legs and viewed the setting of the sun, amazed at how with its departure it took all light and warmth.  
  
Desperate to keep himself from despair, he thought of how, despite the sun's retreat, leaving the world cold, it always returned every morning to shed its light and warmth. He shook his head at how foolish he was to wish his own demise. How he must have worried his mother so, especially in her last few moments. She feared what he would do without her around to guide him on a straight path.  
  
He looked despairingly down at his hands, the hands that had defeated the androids and Cell of this timeline. And yet he couldn't use them to save himself. He felt so guilty, as if an acid were eating its way through his soul.   
  
He had been searching for something ever since he had returned from the other timeline, searching for a cure to his loneliness, to this feeling of utter desolation. But perhaps, he was not searching in the right places. How was he ever going to find happiness if he continued to seclude himself from society?  
  
He had built barriers between his mother and himself and now that he realized how inane that was of him, it was too late, she was already gone from this world. All she wanted was for him to find solace in the world, to find his place and live out his days in peace.   
  
Trunks felt dreadful, his mother had been through so much in her life and yet always had time to do so much for him. And how had he repaid her? He had nearly killed her with worry about whether or not he would end his own life after her death. He was such a fool.  
  
Don't worry though, mother. I vow to you, that I will find peace in this world, I will live my life as you wished me to, and I will always cherish you in my heart, my dear mother.  
  
A lone tear slipped down his cheek, unchecked by his hands, clenched in determined fists by his side. He had thought that with the defeat of the androids and Cell it would be the end of his battles, but rather it was the beginning of his struggle with his inner turmoil.  
  
And as the sun disappeared from view, the last of its shining rays gone, Trunks blasted off towards home, with a new mission in life, to live it, and most importantly to live it without the shadows of the past haunting him.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Well, I hope this is more pleasing to all of you out there. This isn't the end though. I plan on adding a few more chapters, so please review and let me know what you think of the changes! 


	2. A New Beginning

I refuse to delete the original "A Reason to Live" to get more hits on this version! I can't! Compare, people, compare! Oh well. Anywho, I realized that to get the hits up on this one I needed to complete the next chapter. I've been changing my mind a lot about this fic so I may edit it later on.   
  
This story is mainly about Trunks and his feelings so I won't being doing a lot of development for other characters. Meaning, in my terms, that I won't being going inside their thoughts a lot. Just wanted to let you know!  
  
deadscream7990  
  
~~~~~  
  
Trunks looked remorsefully at what was supposed to be his dinner. He just couldn't get the hang of the cooking thing. It had been nearly two months since his mother had passed on and he still couldn't cook a decent meal for himself.  
  
Rolling his eyes at his repeated failure, Trunks quickly ate the food, hoping that by eating it fast he wouldn't have to taste it as much. Not that he had that many taste-buds left after some of his earlier experiments with food. Usually Trunks preferred to order food from a restaurant, but lately he hadn't felt like just ordering his food. He felt that in order to become more human is respect to his emotions than he needed to fully partake of all human activities, which included cooking.  
  
Trunks carefully set the dishes in the sink, being gentle as to not chip any of the dinnerware left to him by his mother. He glanced at the now full sink with lazy eyes, why do now what you can put off until later? With a shrug of his broad shoulders, Trunks gathered his jacket from the closet and headed to the door.  
  
Since he had decided to make his life worth living Trunks had found that he had interests in a lot of areas that he had never before had a chance to explore. Despite his mother being an inventor, a technical genius, Trunks found himself swaying more towards the liberal arts area. He discovered that he had a love for books, the classics in particular.   
  
To him there was nothing more relaxing and fulfilling as sitting down and just loosing himself in an alternate reality for a brief time. Some might think that he read just to escape his life and that in truth he had not decided to live his life but rather just found a way to conceal his longing for another time, but he had put the ghosts of the past behind him.  
  
Everything. It all mattered not to him anymore. His mind blocked the painful memories of his trip to the past, attempting to shut out the ever present pain. To even think of Gohan, his friend, was to bring on a headache of considerable size. He didn't care any less for the people he had met because of this, he simply chose not to feel the constant pain, for if he felt the pain at all times he would surely loose hope and fall back in the abyss of depression.  
  
Trunks cleared his mind of all those thoughts as he pushed open the door to his preferred book store. He smiled kindly at the owner and immediately retreated to his favorite rack of books, the classics.  
  
He slowly perused through the various titles, his finger trailing along as his eyes watched closely for a book that would interest him. He had recently drawn the conclusion that he thoroughly enjoyed plays, finding them funny and loving how they seemed to satirize everything known to mankind.   
  
Trunks smiled as he found a play he had not read before, "The Misanthrope" by Moliere. With a quick glance to the summary he found it to be highly intriguing. A play about a man who wants nothing more than to oppose anything and everything that anyone says. Trunks smirked, this could make for some interesting reading. He carried the book to the front register and paid for it there as he exchanged pleasantries with the owner.  
  
Trunks had not exactly made friends since his decision to fully live his life, but he was slowly working his way back to being what he supposed was normal. By taking things slow, step by step, he felt he was ensuring his future. He had to figure out how to survive living alone before he could even think of complicating things with close human relationships. To grow attached to anyone right now was not an option. He must learn on his own.  
  
The bell on the door jingled as Trunks exited the book store. He began walking slowly towards his home and not able to resist the temptation, he pulled out his book and glanced over it once more.   
  
As his eyes scanned the words, he felt his body come into contact with something and as he feel to the ground he realized that it was a person.  
  
~~~~~  
  
She had been walking aimlessly for some time now. No particular destination in mind. She didn't know where to begin. She had to find him, the one man that could answer all her questions. Failure in this task was not an option. She sighed and continued on her way, gazing hopelessly down at her feet. She noticed another pair of shoes in her view, but it was to late. They had collided, sending the precious item in her hand flying to the ground as she unceremoniously fell down.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Trunks blushed in embarrassment, he had knocked down some poor young girl in his negligence to watch where he was going. What a fool he was, she could have been seriously injured because of him.  
  
"I am so sorry, miss," Trunks hurriedly said, hoping she wasn't upset with him. "Are you all right?"  
  
The annoyed look on her face disappeared at his sincere tone, "No, I'm fine. Just caught off guard. That's all."  
  
"I am so sorry. Let me help you..." Trunks paused mid-sentence as his eyes caught sight of something.  
  
The object that she had held so tightly in her hand was now being picked up by his callused hand. A watch, but not just any watch. It was the old-fashioned type that hung on a chain rather than being worn on the wrist.  
  
Far from an ordinary watch. There was something unique about it. Like Trunks had seen it before.  
  
As he flipped it over his eyes landed on a delicate engraving.  
  
An engraving which read 'Son Gohan'.  
  
Time froze. The air became thick around Trunks with pain and confusion. How? How had this girl gotten Gohan's watch?  
  
The watch had meant so much to him. A present for his birthday from both his parents. His last birthday with his father alive. Gohan would never have let some random person attain this watch.  
  
Trunks' beautiful azure eyes turned cold as he straightened himself up, looking her fully in the eye. He took a step closer, his look causing her to visibly tremble a bit, but she stood steadfast at his glare.  
  
"Where did you get this?"  
  
"My mother gave it to me, long ago. She died when I was five and that watch is the only thing I have to remember her by, it was given to her by my father. She said if I ever found that I had questions about myself than I should find the man with the name on the watch and he could give me my answers."  
  
"This man you are searching for..."  
  
Her eyes turned hopeful, "Do you perhaps know him?"  
  
"It wouldn't do you any good. He's dead."  
  
The harshness of his words hit her hard. "Dead? But he was supposed to..."  
  
"Answer your questions, right?"   
  
The girl looked up, as if he had hurt her in some way. "I believe he was my father. I must learn everything I can about him. There are so many things I need to know about myself."  
  
Trunks smirked, poor girl is a quarter saiyan and doesn't know it. She must be incredibly strong for a human and not know why. Though there was nothing he wanted more than to forget his past, he felt compelled to tell this girl about her alleged father. The father she had never known and the man he had always wished to be his father.  
  
"He was a great man."  
  
The spark of hope ignited in her eyes, "So you did know him."  
  
Trunks smiled, "I knew him very well. He was like a brother to me. He was the only one there for me when I needed help."  
  
"Please, sir, tell me about him. Tell me about the man who I think is my father."  
  
Trunks glanced around them, seeing that people were beginning to occupy the streets. Not wanting anyone to hear their conversation, "Let's continue this conversation at my home, where no one can overhear us."  
  
As they walked, Trunks stole glances at her. She looked every bit the saiyan she should. Ebony black hair, dark eyes, she walked with a natural grace that only saiyans, a warrior breed, seemed to possess.   
  
Maybe he wasn't destined to be alone after all. Maybe there was someone out there that he could emotionally relate to.  
  
He couldn't bring Gohan back to life, as much as he wanted to, but Gohan had left behind a daughter, perhaps the friend that Trunks needed so much at that moment. Gohan always did have a way of just getting there in the nick of time to save his life. Thank you, Gohan, even in death you still look out for me, brother.  
  
He would tell this girl about her father, tell her how brave he was, how he sacrificed himself against the androids to save innocent people, and he would tell her what he had never told anyone other than his mother. He would tell her about his trip to the other timeline. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something in his soul that told him that he could trust this girl to tell her everything and that she would be a greatly needed ally in this emotionally troubling time for them both.  
  



End file.
